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Ice cream…I scream?

Three today, three!
Usually I’m fighting the Mc,d’s addiction. The cream egg mc’flurry is a particular problem so thankfully it’s only for a month but today I decided I was entitled to a treat despite having a white Magnum for breakfast (after all, it is Good Friday and I have been good)
I took a leisurely motorcycle ride, (lie number one) towards Chale area (South Isle of Wight) but the chine I wanted to go down is closed due to erosion! That’s what happens to clefts if they’re not scrupulously maintained, corrosion, erosion, implosion, devotion, probably a few other words ending in tion/sion too that I can’t be bothered to list.
Soooo, I ended up blasting down the military road like a psycho car-hater.
I am the reason bikers have a bad reputation but I don’t give a fuck what car twats think of something they’re scared of; pussios! I also don’t give a fuck what pussy ride-to-the-letter-of-the-law hi-viz wearing tosspot ‘Advanced Motorist’ bikers think either. If you’re wearing hi-viz you’re no biker.
That, my dears, is the whole ethos of biking that these fag pussios don’t get and will never be able to comprehend.
Do what you want.
Ride how you like.
Wear what the fuck you want.
Do NOT conform.
Do not behave in any way that might be considered mature.
Fuck the police.
Fuck conformity.
Fuck hi-viz.
Fuck helmet laws.
Fuck the speed limit.
Er…sorry, I’ve gone off subject a little here considering I was talking about ice cream but that’s what happens when you consider all the pussies who are,trying to force square pegs into round anuses, it’s just not going to fit… as the vicar said…..
En eeee waaaay, so I ended up getting 120 on the clock of my little bike.
I didn’t know it could do that! (She’s only a Honda CBR600)
Cool, made me laugh and scrunching up behind the screen reminded me how superb bikes are when you thrash them a little harder than they’re used to.
So, I ended up at Compton beach as usual. The bike just wants to go there as it’s a good blast up the mili’ rd and a really cool place to make sand pictures, sculptures, take photos, chill, whatever.
Today I immediately thought of ice cream. Unusual ’cause I’ve passed that ice cream van loads of times before and taken no notice whatsoever but today was a double cone and flakes day; sunshine; slightly cool breeze, tide too far in for sand-pictures so it was take a couple of photos, write a few lines of my latest book and gannet ice cream regardless of the bloated belly that needs to shift a few tubs of lard already. Really shouldn’t be eating the stuff but the voices in my head are too powerful. I do argue with them but they bully my little sensible voice while their big booming do-as-I-say-not-what-the-pussy-voice-thinks bellow rides roughshod over my conscience only for it to witter on endlessly after the fact: tee dee arse!
Anyway it’s done now. I can console myself with the knowledge that the double cone was amaaaazing and the second white Magnum was incredible. My reasonable-brain even considered that maybe if I ate one a day until the day I die, regardless of the amount of lard attached to my blubbery body, it would be a life lived well.
I do genuinely love veg and salad but some days the only thing that will do it is dairy, oh and motorbikes.
Don’t ever forget the motorbikes.